Long time passing- gone to fighting everyone

It is peculiar how one thing in your life segues into another. The series of “In search of my son- In search of me” would never have been written if it hadn’t been for the actions of my son’s wife and her family.

I would have after they had had their ceremonies and we had had our closure stopped writing this blog.

I would have closed the front page with a goodbye .

I would have grieved in private-

I would have walked the woods of his special place, watched the seasons change and mourned my son.

I would not have searched his artwork to hear his voice, I would not have doubted our relationship -

I would have slipped quietly into my non ending night.

That was not to be and in some respects the “Princess” opened up a whole other world.

Chris and his sister, Nikki - on the happiest night of her life

As readers know I started exploring who my son was , what made him- HIM.
I went on a “genes journey” and in that search I came across ancestors I hadn’t thought of and some of whom I didn’t know existed.

The other part of my life that probably wouldn’t have changed is my escape from grief, I still cannot pick up a book for reasons I will explain in another post. I can only watch certain television programs so that the triggers don’t happen as they are “debilitating” ( Chris trigger word)

I tend to watch HGTV and World at War ( as I know the outcome) on the Military Channel. I also try to see if my uncle’s and grandfather’s ( WW1) faces are ever pictured.

I was watching an episode the other day when they were showing a ship , the HMS Southampton as she steamed into New York Harbor on the Old King and Queens visit in 1939.

Frank Watson Wood (1862-1953).

Wait a minute! My father was the on that ship – He was the Engine Room Artificer Officer 1st Class . I remember him telling me of that trip.

But I bet like most of you when your parents talk of the good old days you didn’t pay much attention .

I called my mum and she came over and I asked her write down the ships my father was on from 1938 until 1945.

You always think of your parents as being “old” at least I did – it was only when my mum wrote “MY Book” a chronicle of her life to a certain point that I thought of my parents as being young . Chris actually designed the cover of that book.

I realised that my father was only 21 when he ran the engine room of that destroyer . 21 !!! years old…. ( some things never change do they the wars are always fought by the very young)

‘If Hitler could have been there for five minutes with me, he would have finished the war.

‘He would have realised that he has got to take every Englishman and twist him by the neck – otherwise he cannot win this war.’

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1307321/The-hell-beneath-inferno-As-bombs-fell-families-fled-underground-But-life-beneath-streets-squalid-nightmare-wasnt-safe.html#ixzz0y5eHRN5t

I have his medals hanging on the dining wall – well what is left of them
Apparently I used the box when I was little girl to collect caterpillars and some medals went to pin my dolls dresses that I used to make out of handkerchiefs.

I decided to do a little sleuthing on his ships and the where and when.
So mum and I started the internet search .

It was a poignant and sharing experience for both of us. I highly recommend a walk down memory lane with your parent - you will both gain from the experience.

I will share our afternoon in the next post.

Where have all the young men gone?

TO BE CONTINUED——–

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